Windowsill
by ropesburg
Summary: First day of school, and he's already running late. Naruto curses his bad luck, and frankly this whole damn day. Too bad his teacher doesn't seem to like him either... University AU. Naruto's point of view.


I do not know biology, I have never been to New York, and I have never set foot inside a university. Naturally, this story contains all those things. (Hello wildly experimental writing)

Pairings: SasuSaku, if you squint, kind of. This is a story about **Naruto**.

Rated T for language. Otherwise rated K but meh, you know, think of the children.

**University AU**. (where Kakashi doesn't wear his f***ing mask)

* * *

**Windowsill**

When the train stopped at the right station he was the first out the doors, hastily shoving his body through the meeting crowd. He rushed up the stairs, taking two steps in one, his heart beating angrily in his chest. Reaching street-level he stopped for a second, blinded by the metallic morning light. He flung his hands up to cover his eyes, took a look around.

"Shit."

Wrong block.

* * *

"I'm-" he folded double, holding his side, concentrating on breathing. "I was supposed to be here half an hour ago."

The lady behind the counter pointedly put her pen down, gave him a grating once-over. "Name? ID?"

He fumbled with his wallet and the damn drivers license. The woman put her expectant hand back down, having decided to wait for better times. He dropped the plastic card on the counter with a sigh of relief. She stared at it blankly, fed the computer some numbers and gave him his license back.

Her voice was kinder when she said: "You've missed the introduction. I'll print a schedule for you."

"Thanks." As he remained by the help desk, the other classes ended and the talking mass of students distanced itself from the lecture halls.

The stern woman returned from the copying machine, handed him his papers. "Your next class is introduction to biochemistry."

He looked at his schedule. To the far left, in the yellow square, it said 306. A group of chattering girls passed him by, not giving him the time of day, exactly as honeycombed as the day they were born. He straightened up, glanced nervously at his right, towards the infinite classrooms. "Where-..." he began weakly.

"306 is situated on the third floor, it's the lecture hall to the left."

He nodded, "Thank you."

He passed a big clock. 20 minutes until his academic life would start.

The long-legged institution did little to cheer its students up. The dark polished stone floors was as callous as the deterring walls. He hurried along again, imitating the jock strap intellectuals that scavenged the corridors with such ease. There were less people on the third floor.

The rigid wooden doors barely let him in and as soon as he made it past them he wished he hadn't. Row after row with glass cabinets, each with a stuffed animal on display. After his initial shock, he edged closer. A squirrel, lots of birds, their glass eyes saw right through him. Their expressions were indefinitely blank.

He turned away.

* * *

Naruto took a seat in the middle, close enough to see the board but far enough away to escape the teacher's scrutinizing gaze. Whoever it was that taught the class, they hadn't arrived. Further back, someone opened a bag of chips. Two rows down, a with jet-black hair was sharpening his pencil. The hall was almost full, line after line with students hiding behind their laptops. A guy passed him by and continued down towards the blackboard. It wasn't until the man dropped the books he'd been carrying on the desk up front that Naruto realized that he was the teacher.

The man had unruly gray hair, as if he'd been standing in a wind tunnel for seven hours straight.

"Alright, welcome to biochemistry."

His words were polite but it was clear that they held no meaning to him. His blue shirt was wrinkly, his jeans worn. It was quiet in the class except for two girls, indignantly continuing their conversation.

"I'll take the attendance now."

Naruto listened with half an ear. His own name was often at the end of the list.

"Uchiha, Sasuke."

"Hn."

"Uzumaki, Naruto."

He cleared his throat before answering. "Yeah."

* * *

The school was like a monastery, big and tidy and with a sense of importance. Far from luxurious, but also never doubting its value. It was a place that made people kneel because they wanted to.

He was late, again. The empty corridors stretched out in front of him and he ran, listening to the clattering from the classrooms he passed.

Up another staircase, then promptly to the left. He ripped open the door and was met with skeptical eyes. He'd interrupted a lecture. Down-turned mouths, scowling expressions. By the blackboard, the teacher stopped writing and turned around.

There was a second of them recognizing each other, of finding their names.

"Giving up on this class already? And it's only the second day..."

His comment was met with snickers and Naruto sat down in the far back. He pulled out his notebook from the bag which he then kicked under the chair. His cheeks heated.

He stared down at the lined paper, and so he remained for the rest of the class. Diligently taking notes without hearing a single word of what was said. When the bell rang he let out a heaving breath, put the pen down, rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Hey, um-"

He turned his head. A girl with black long hair stood beside his chair, the books casually steeped against her chest. "We're going out for lunch." She paused, a blush spread across her face but she persevered. "Do you wanna come?"

He readily agreed.

* * *

Four of them went to a café situated on one of the side streets. The place was crawling with students, probably because of the divine coffee prices and over-sized bagels.

Kiba, the unannounced leader, was busy stuffing one of the latter in his mouth. He nabbed a napkin from the pile on the table and crumpled it in his hand, simultaneously ridding it from any remnants of bagel-filling.

"New York is a fucking dream, I'm never leaving this place."

"I wasn't aware you were planning to," it came from the corner. The guy had black round glasses and a coat that looked as if it had come from the meat packing district when it was still just that.

The only girl in the group watched them idly. She wore nice clothes. Dark jeans and a pale sweater, almost as easy as her eyes. Despite that she had been the one who invited him, she didn't say a lot.

"Is it true what they say about your dad?" Kiba asked.

Naruto put the coffee cup back down. It clinked angrily in the silence left by the wake of his words. "I don't know. What do they say?"

The other boy patted around for his cigarettes, wondering which crevice of his frank leather jacket that was hiding the goods. "That he was at the top of his field." He paused to knock out a cig from the package. "That he practically founded the institution. Stuff like that."

"He ran it for a while, yeah." Naruto said, looking down at the grimy table.

"Cool." Kiba stuffed the pack back into the inner pocket, closest to his heart.

* * *

"-and the MRNA is read according to the genetic guide-"

Naruto jotted it down, faithfully.

A week had passed.

"This is what I want you to do a presentation on. Each group gets their own piece of the transcription process to describe. I've put you in groups of three. I want your presentment in seven days from now, which is next Monday."

He'd ended up in the same group as the guy with a bird's nest for hair. They were gonna write about ribosomes.

The boy sneered, "what a waste of time." He pulled the bag higher up on his shoulder. "I'm going home."

Naruto and the girl remained. She peered at the paper in his hands. "I'm sure we can write it pretty quickly, it's straightforward." She put her jacket on. "We don't have to do it right now," she added defensively.

The other boy, Sasuke, had stopped in the stair, waiting for her. She hurried to join him.

* * *

Naruto groaned, dropped his head backwards until it rested on the sofa's broken back support. "How come I get stuck with Sourface and his girlfriend while you three got to work together?"

It was Wednesday. They were at a bar not far from his apartment.

"Sorry man." Kiba sipped on his beer. "Hinata and I spent two hours in the library, transcribed what we found, and then we called it quits."

At his words Hinata swept her long hair to one side, her movements liquid from many years of doing it. "Shino is still in the library," she continued.

Kiba scoffed. "And he can stay there, I don't mind."

The girl smiled. "You know, you could use some time at the library."

Naruto looked up, thinking she'd meant him, but Hinata didn't even see him. Her focus was on the one sitting beside her, looking sheepish at her remark. Her smile broadened, she got some color in her cheeks. It was like a canvas, a becoming, before his very eyes. "Maybe even opening a book..."

He snorted,"You have no idea what you're talking about. I know everything about APD and APT and-"

Naruto thought about his teacher, and his unwillingness to seem even the least bit encouraging. Every time Naruto asked a question he was shot down, every time he answered something his answer was good but never good _enough_. His teacher was young but demanding. A lazy perfectionist.

"Is he always like that?" he asked into thin air.

Kiba scratched his head, "Well, Shino's a little odd-"

"No, no I mean our teacher-"

What was he called again? The man was elusive. His name had stuck around long enough for it to become elusive too. "Hatake."

"They say he's always been like that," Hinata said quietly. "He fails a lot of his students. And he has a much higher percentage dropping out than other teachers."

Kiba and Hinata continued their discussion, like a soundtrack playing in the background.

He heard nothing.

* * *

Naruto finished the speech, a final worded stanza of a concerto down a sewage pipe. They would fail the assignment.

When they gathered around for feedback after class, in their teacher's office, it was a curt story.

"Sasuke, you barely said anything."

The two men stared at each other, one dark-haired, one light-haired.

Sasuke was the first to back down, knew he was in the wrong. He muttered, "I'll do better next time."

"Good."

He was allowed to leave.

Both Naruto and Sakura looked after him, no one particularly interested in being the one that was left behind.

"Sakura," he went on. "It felt as if you weren't prepared at all. Were there any difficulties with working like this?"

She shook her head. "No, none at all... sir."

Kakashi blinked, for a second surprised. She made no attempts to explain herself, since there was none to give except for outright lies.

The quiet persisted, Naruto said nothing.

It was Hatake that surrendered to it. "Prepare a bit more next time, okay?"

She nodded once, bowed her pink head of hair before his authority.

They both waited until she'd left and closed the door behind her.

Kakashi peered at him, pinning him down, daring him to question his judgment. "It was okay, but a little brief."

_Brief._

He'd spent at least half an hour shortening the text down to the appointed three minutes of speaking.

"Write a bit more next time."

He'd done all the work, both Sakura and Sasuke's parts.

A downright mockery.

Naruto stayed quiet, he squeezed his hands into fists and shifted his weight.

He always set out with a positive idea of people, a good foundation. It didn't apply to the man behind the desk. He had dark eyes that handed respect out like tickets, and Naruto knew he could never afford them.

Whatever Kakashi had against him, it was beyond his powers to change.

"Your father had a brilliant mind," he said suddenly. "And it's unjust to compare it to anything else."

Naruto felt an avid ambiguity, then disbelief, righteous anger.

"Don't talk as if you knew my father," Naruto said hotly.

_Don't talk as if you know me._

* * *

The weeks sauntered on, each as bitter as the aftermath of crimes.

Naruto always sat in the far back. Avoiding his teacher.

Kakashi went around, passing out their tests. Graded and corrected.

"Thank you," Naruto said dryly when he received his.

B-.

And his teacher could go _fuck _himself.

"If you have any questions, you know where my office is. Most of you did good this time."

Afterwards, in the sparsely apocalyptic office, Naruto remembered an emotion he'd wanted to forget.

Was it true? Did he hate him?

He'd taken a seat in the chair before the desk without being asked to, looking at everything but his reluctant teacher.

There were books on shelves, on the windowsill, precariously stacked on the edges of the desk. The titles all spelled different names. _An introduction to neurochemistry, The disappearing spoon, Uncle Tungsten. _There were dips and valleys on the books' backsides, they had been cracked open and read and then forgotten. They were in storage. Unloved.

"What can I do for you?" Kakashi asked at last, holding a book in his hand, even though he didn't spare it a glance.

He steeled himself. "Why did I get a B-?"

Kakashi made a grimace, unfitting of his guarded face. "The grades aren't up for discussion."

Naruto knew what he had written on the test. He'd studied, and was able to answer each and every question. He should have gotten the highest score.

But then again, this wasn't about his score. The underhanded grades were only a result of something else. Perhaps a mutual reluctance to stay on the same level for more than a second.

"I know when I'm undeserving of a higher grade," Naruto said firmly, closely watching the gray eyes for any sign of understanding. "But this isn't one of those cases."

Kakashi put the book down. "I don't know what kind of benefits you've reaped before from your father's heritage. It won't work now, with me."

His words stunned him, not what they meant but that he _said _it. For years he'd heard the same thing but watered down. People sneered and told him that he should be grateful for all that he'd gotten for free, while at the same time putting another rock in his backpack, turning every blessing as heavy as lead.

"I don't want anything from you," Naruto said. "Except a fair grade."

His teacher looked furious, and Naruto realized it sounded like he hadn't thought he did his job right.

"If your father were alive he would have-"

Enough.

"Screw you." Naruto stood up. "I made it here because I wanted to be here, more than anything. Now I don't know." He'd almost made it to the door when he turned around. "And I'm not my father. I'm a person in my own right."

Kakashi didn't move when he left.

Naruto went up the stairs, his feet hammering first on the polished steps and then on the light metallic steps in the spiral staircase. Students weren't allowed up on the roof. He pushed the door open and stepped out.

The tarmac had puddles from the rain and New York acted like a wet dog, curled up and licking its fur. He peeked out from beyond the thick stone parapet and saw the usual traffic short-comings far beneath him. The yellow cabs looked like bugs, cautiously edging along the only path offered.

It clacked as the door swung open. The sound of steps.

He knew whom they belonged to. "What do you want?"

Kakashi sighed. "I've treated you badly."

Naruto straightened up, turned his back on the view, finally granting him his attention.

Sure enough, there he was. Out in the open Kakashi seemed younger, as if the breeze made it difficult to keep his age intact.

Despite that he only wore his usual shirt and jeans combo, he didn't seem fazed by the cold.

"I studied under your father. For, well, a lot of years."

Naruto fell silent, and the thought-out remarks died on his tongue. He sensed a story was being cut short, compressed. Years were being filed down to sentences, then words. A life reduced to syllables.

"He was my mentor. Perhaps even my friend." He'd looked off into the distance, but then shrugged. "I don't know. I was very upset when I got the news of his death." Another sigh. "Ah..." He looked away, "He left a lot of things unfinished."

Naruto's parents had died getting hit by a drunk driver, going in the opposite direction. He'd just been a baby then, staying at his grand-parents for the night.

But suddenly "just one night" became all the nights. And he was, in the legal sense, no longer a child of Minato and Kushina.

"When I look at you," Kakashi went on, "I see every bit of him. And I think I somehow feared that your success would diminish his. That once you were done with the world, it wouldn't be the same."

"But-," Naruto stammered. "I haven't done anything. I'm not even that _good _at chemistry. Or, well anything."

Kakashi went up to the parapet, glanced at the biting skyline, "Well, you got here. That's a start as good as any."

The winds had picked up, abusing the October ground with stolen leaves.

In due time, they'd go inside.

But not yet.


End file.
